


Shelter

by Jerevinan



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Depression, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Health Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-02-09 21:08:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12896862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jerevinan/pseuds/Jerevinan
Summary: When weeks of disappointment and loneliness pass, Noctis begins to shut down. But Gladio is there to remind him that he is always there.





	Shelter

**Author's Note:**

> So the song "Shelter from the Storm" by LEMON inspired this fic, and I had to write it out.
> 
> “When you can’t find your way home  
> I’ll be your shelter, shelter from the storm  
> When the cold won’t leave your bones  
> I’ll be the sun that keeps you warm  
> You can have me for the rest of my life  
> I will drive through the night to your door  
> Just ask and I’m yours.” – [LEMON, “Shelter from the Storm”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8QUQ1H4bKpI)

The rain drowned out the city landscape, blurring the illumination of the surrounding buildings. Light thunder grumbled in accompaniment with the cloud-to-cloud lightning. Noctis sat on the floor in front of the windows, knees to chest, and watched the storm.

He left the lights off in his apartment, as if the darkness might swallow him out of existence. Within a blink of lightning, he could disappear for good. The mood wouldn’t shake, no matter how much he stared out the window, looking for something to reassure him. Not that he wanted to cease to exist, not truly. He wanted to live to his fullest. But the ache of loneliness that crept through him until his breath hitched and his eyes burned with tears he refused to spend wouldn’t leave. Why didn’t someone—someone he wished to hear from—call? If only Prompto hadn’t been working, they could have played video games. He could have forgotten his pain if he had company.

He curled his body around a throw pillow and eased himself onto the rough carpets. He reached up toward the sofa and nabbed the blanket over the back of it, letting it slide down and fall across his shoulders and face. 

The rain patted out a gentle rhythm against the windows, the thunder offering a rare drumbeat. Noctis closed his eyes to wait—though he had no idea what he waited for—and fell asleep.

~*~

“You can’t sleep here.”

Noctis didn’t connect the voice as one outside of a dream until he felt strong arms lifting him from the ground. He leaned into whoever it was, recognizing scents—strong soap, the hint of early sweat. 

“Gladio?”

“C’mon, princess, off the floor.”

Noctis swung a leg and realized he was being held in the air. He popped open his eyes.

“Gladio?!”

“Yeah, who else?” Gladiolus grunted and placed Noctis on the sofa. He set his palms against the back of the couch on both sides of Noctis’ head so that he straddled him. “What’s wrong?”

Noctis shrugged and yawned. Without his blanket, the chill seeped deep into his skin and down to his bones. He patted around the cushions in search of another blanket, but there was only the one. Damnit.

“What’s got you sleeping on the floor?”

Instead of answering, Noctis tried to connect the pieces of events he last remembered. “Why are you here?”

“You didn’t answer your phone.” 

Noctis peered around and finally found the device resting on the coffee table. Oh. He had nudged it away when it kept blinking messages at him—texts from Ignis reminding him about his meeting tomorrow, his workplace sending an alteration in his schedule for next week, and other people who wanted the prince.

No one who wanted _Noctis_.

“What do you want?” The words had a bite to them, accusing Gladiolus of the same transgression as everyone else who had tried to contact him in the past few days.

Gladiolus sighed and sat down beside Noctis. “Just checking in. No one’s heard from you today. Ignis was worried.”

“I _know_ about the meeting.” 

Gladiolus kicked at a soda bottle on the floor. The remaining contents in it swished around as it rolled away. Noctis became vaguely aware that someone had turned on the lights. Not all of them, but the one over the kitchen had been flipped on. Enough for Gladiolus to navigate around the apartment without tripping on all the litter.

“Your apartment’s a mess again.”

Noctis swallowed. Up until recently, he had kept up with cleaning. But that was before a series of cancelled dinners with his father, a schedule filled with meetings and work, and little time to unwind with friends. The state of his apartment reflected his moods. 

Gladiolus lifted off the sofa and began circling the apartment, flipping on all the lights. Noctis buried into the cushions, bracing against the brightness. There was a rustle of plastic from the kitchen, and a few minutes later, the taps of plastic bottles being thrown into a sack.

Noctis peered up when he heard a cap unscrew. Gladiolus lifted a bottle and poured the flat, expired contents down the sink before tossing it into a plastic bag.

“Can’t live like this,” muttered Gladiolus, sifting through the mess on the dining room table and grabbing plastic bottles. “Hey, Noct? These magazines—you keeping ‘em?”

“No.”

Gladiolus gathered them up and set them in the recycling box beneath the cabinet. A few minutes later, Noctis could see most of the tabletop. He slinked off to the bathroom and stared in the mirror. Despite managing a shower that morning, he didn’t _look_ clean. He smoothed his fingers through his bedhead and dug out a fresh shirt that he hadn’t been wearing around the house for several days.

When he returned, Gladiolus had not only cleared the table, but polished it. The stenches from the trash were replaced with the scent of lemon cleaner.

“Let’s order food. When’s the last time you ate?”

Noctis glanced over at the kitchen counter, but the half-eaten muffin and its wrapper were gone from where he left them that morning.

“Thought so.” Gladiolus pulled out his phone and dialed in a number. A few minutes later, he set the phone down on the table. “Thirty minutes, and then we’ll have a feast of fried rice and wontons.”

“Sounds good.”

Gladiolus stared him down, but Noctis wasn’t sure what he was looking for—another fault in a soul with many? A reason for the messy apartment and a nap on the uncomfortable floor in front of the stormy cityscape?

“It feels like I’ve been training more lately, and my dad…” Gladiolus grunted. “He’s been busy. Even missed one of Iris’ dance events. Couldn’t go to lunch with us after that, either. Called a lot. Apologized. But that’s work, right? He’s gotta take care of the king.”

“Why’re you telling me all this?” Noctis regretted the words as soon as he spoke them. It wasn’t that he didn’t care about what was going on in Gladiolus’ life. He cared too much. He didn’t want dads who were too busy for their kids to be a fact of life. Not for him, not for anyone.

Gladiolus didn’t answer him and kept going. “I spend a lot of time looking at my schedule. Sometimes I go home and sleep after I’m done, instead of being able to go out and have a drink or unwind. It can happen for weeks on end, and it makes me mad that all I can do some evenings is sleep. What else can I do? There’s always something tomorrow.”

“Yeah…” That, or nothing, Noctis thought.

“What I’m saying is…” Gladiolus stepped closer. “You can call on me if you need me. Don’t let it get like this.”

The sob came out like a hiccup before Noctis pressed his head against Gladiolus’ warm shoulder, snaking his arms around his waist. A strong embrace pulled him even closer, thick fingers slipping through his hair.

“Damnit, Noct.” Heavy affection laced every word. “I’m here? I know shit gets rough. That’s the life we lead, but you’re not alone.”

Noctis leaned further against Gladiolus, as if he could get any closer. 

Gladiolus heaved a sigh. “I’m more than your shield, but I’m that, too. In every way you need me to be.”

Noctis smiled into Gladiolus’ shirt, fingers curling into the fabric of his tank. 

“Just ask and I’m yours.”

**Author's Note:**

> A bit short, but oh well - had to write it out of my system.


End file.
